


One thousand and one nights without you

by Eleanor_Cavendish



Category: Mo Dao Zu Shi, grand master demonic cultivation, wangxian - Fandom
Genre: 13 years, Gusu Lan, Heavy Angst, Lan Zhans POV, M/M, Music, guqin, inquiry, lonely nights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-08 04:47:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20315170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleanor_Cavendish/pseuds/Eleanor_Cavendish
Summary: It has been 13 years since Wei Ying's death and Lan Zhan can only follow the familiar path to the back of the Cloud Recesses to play Inquiry.That and a lot of angsty memories, have your tissues ready :p





	One thousand and one nights without you

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone,
> 
> This is my first fanfic and its an angsty one.   
There is probably a few spoilers and it is only mildly canon divergent.   
Let me know if you like it :)
> 
> I am welcome to suggestions if you would like me to write anything in specific. You can follow me at EleanorCavendi1 
> 
> I will soon contribute to tgcf 2ha yuwu svsss and others 
> 
> #nobetawedielikemen

It was one of those sleepless nights where the bitter memories of the past would become too much for Lan Zhan to bear. Since Wei Ying's death these nights happened all too often. When the sky above was darkest and the Cloud Recesses slept in silence, the tight clutch of his regrets struck the hardest. Wei Ying would never again sneak over the Cloud Recesses roof tops after curfew for a taste of Emperor's Smile and that was something Lan Zhan could never forgive himself for.

At that time when the world had turned his back to Wei Wuxian he should have stayed by his side. The weight of the consequences of his past choices was heavy on his heart and 13 years of reflection had not done anything to lighten it. It had all been too late and Lan Zhan could only blame himself for it. 33 lashes that had almost claimed his life afterwards and the disapproval of all the Lan elders that followed had not been enough to quench the anger and disappointment he felt towards himself. Lan Zhan welcomed pain that distracted him of the cruel reality of a life lived without purpose.

When the news came of the Yiling Patriarch death, there was panicked disbelief, shock and a deeply rooted sense of helplessness that had never left him since. Disregarding all advice he raced back to Yiling but once again he was too late. When the realization came that he would never see Wei Ying again he crumbled to the ground all pretences lost, allowing himself to shed away the tears that had been welled up inside him for all too long, his heart aching with longing for something he will never have. Their story a tragedy born from misunderstandings and fuel by the flames of war and the hatred of the aftermath. Unable to move forwards or go back he was left behind to mourn his loss trapped on a cruel prison of his own making for there is no greater regret in life than the words left unspoken and the deeds left undone.

When he first found Lan Yuan fevered and abandoned amongst the desolation that followed the Yiling Patriarch death, he could only continue what Wei Ying had started, raising the rabbits he had once gifted him and the boy he had left behind all too soon. Those first years he prayed that the Dao of the heavens would be kind enough so that one day they may meet again but as time went by Lan Zhan's hopes had been fruitless.

Reminiscing of the past was a very dangerous territory for Hanguang-Jun and in this nights where he submerged himself willingly in his own thoughts his guqin was his only anchor to reality and the only peace he could give his mind. Lan Zhan made his way to the back of the Cloud Recesses. It was well past curfew but Lan Zhan had long stopped minding breaking the rules when it came to Wei Wuxian. It was a clear cloudless night like many at this time of the year. A gentle breeze brushed past the leaves of the bamboo forest that bordered the stone paved path that led to his mother cottage. The moon was high and bright in the sky like that night when they had first met.

"I'll give you a jar, can you pretend that you never saw me? " he can practically hear him say. His voice still young and untouched by the burdens that would later take a heavy toll on him. 

How could have Lan Zhan known that this moment would be the start of everything? That years later he would come to yearn for those few days he spent with that shameless boy whose smile was as bright as the stars in a summer night and the only thing that could warm Lan Zhan's heart. He had suspected it back then at the Library Pavilion and in Xuanwu cave he had known. Since that day, Lan Zhan had been drawn to him like a moth to the fire on a bright less night, and that fire had now all but consumed him. That night, on the roof tops of the Cloud Recesses their lives were tied together in a twisted turn of fate and yet, despite everything, he could not bring himself to regret it. How could he? He had failed Wei Wuxian back then and no amount of grieve would ever bring him back.

The walls of his mothers cottage soon came into view, long grass covered the ground there, much in the way of an unkempt meadow that remained beautiful through his wilderness. In spring, flowers dotted the grassland but this year it had been a warm summer and with winter fast approaching, Lan Zhan could feel another of many years since Wei Wuxian's death slipping by. As he arrived to the weathered stone steps that lay before that familiar wooden door, he sat himself amongst the memories of his past. When he was a child, after his mothers passing, he had sat there too day after day unmoving, waiting for the day that she may come back and that wooden door would again open but the years had gone by and the door had never opened since. Waiting here for Wei Ying now seemed most fitting, Lan Zhan was a man of routine after all, if nothing else.

Lan Zhan carefully placed the jar of Emperor's Smile he had carried with him from the Jingshi on the stone steps besides him. Although the jar had never been opened, Lan Zhan could still perceive the faint aroma of the liquor Wei Ying had loved but would never taste again. Lan Zhan sighted, his eyes sorrowful as he pulled his guqin over his lap. Lan Zhan's guqin, Wangji was an spiritual weapon of the finest grade, shaped in the traditional Fu Xi style that the Gusu Lan sect was especially fond of. He run his slender fingers smoothly over the exquisite lacquer work admiring the way the moon light reflected on the mother of pearl emblems dotted along the length of its body.

He carefully positioned the black sandalwood pegs that held the weight of his guqin to his thigh, the head of the guqin gently dipping at his right. Wangji's silk tassels were a simple white with a shade of pale blue as if carefully matching his sect colours. As they gently swirled in the breeze, the jade beads in the tassels faintly clinked against each other every so often, heightening the faint sounds of the wind as it swept by the landscape. Lan Zhan placed his slender fingers of the silk strings of his guqin and quickly checked its tuning with immaculate sharp harmonics, his fingers fluttering like a butterfly between the seven silk strings. 

Finally at ease with all preparations completed he began playing Inquiry, the familiar melody slowly drifting into the night like a beacon for the lost souls that had yet to leave the mortal plane. Lan Zhan had first learned to play the guqin from his mother, as he began playing, the sounds of it tugging at memories of his childhood too deep within to unbury. She had taught him and his brother the same few little tunes Lan Zhan now teaches his younger disciples. The guqin had kept his mother company when his father had deserted her and his sons were taken away. His mother had died when he was young, the strict seclusion imposed on her undoubtedly too much for her weak constitution. Lan Zhan had long forgotten what she looked like back then, his memories of that time too few and fragmented over the years. All but one that is. In the nights where he is not tormented with nightmares of Wei Ying succumbing to demonic cultivation, his mind lost to a wretched path that would eventually claim his life, he remembers the warmth of his mothers embrace. His mothers guqin is in front of him and as he sits in her lap the warmth of her enveloping him, making him feel the safest he has since, her hands slide over the silk strings in much the same way his do now. As many times he has had that dream, he is never been able to remember the song that she played at the time and now he would never know for as his mother loved the guqin in life, she too never answered his Inquiry in death. 

As the song reached the end, the souls he beckoned gathered closer to him, enticed by the reverberating sounds of the silk strings and the mournful glissandos of his fingers on the wooden board. He paused for what seemed like a minute and played the two notes so familiar to him by now.   
"Wei Ying" 

No answer came to him, not the first time nor the second or the third. A tired sigh escaped his lips. It had been 13 years and the hope he once held to see Wei Ying again had dimed unwillingly with the passing of time. His eyes drifted to the jar of Emperor's Smile sitting beside him with deep sorrow. Unable to forget his past, like a compulsion he would gladly succumb to, night after night he would find a secluded place and call him, knowing all too well that as always his voice will remain unheard. Wei Ying had always been the one person to attempt the impossible and achieve it and even death, perhaps, was no exception to him.

After a few minutes deep in his own thoughts he settled himself, resigned to another night with no response. Placing his hands on Wangji's silk strings he began playing again, this time a different tune rang through the night, the notes diffused into the air, telling those who would hear of the agony in his heart. This was not Inquiry but one after another the songs he never got to play for Wei Ying. Submerged in the music the hours went by until the first lights of the morning peaked out through the mountain ranges that surrounded the Cloud Recesses. As much as he wished to stay reminiscing the few good memories they shared together he knew, should he not go back now he would soon be missed. Packing his guqin he began to make his way back to the Jingshi to begin his morning preparations. His uncle no doubt would want to discuss his disciples first mission in Mo village and though the lack of sleep weighted heavy on him, he had never been one to slack on his responsibilities.


End file.
